Macedon Has Not Room for Thee
by L. Burke
Summary: The Brotherhood AU. The word ‘Special’ has so many meanings.


Title: Macedon Has Not Room for Thee

By: L. Burke

Disclaimer: Don't own any of them.

Summary: The Brotherhood AU. The word 'Special' has so many meanings.

Author's Notes: See end for historical notes.

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"Is Sammy special?"

"Deuce, go away." Caleb Reaves groaned as he thunked his head down on the book he was trying to read. "I need to study for my test tomorrow."

Ignoring the request, Dean looked at him anxiously. Then the six-year old once again demanded, "Is Sammy special? The doctor told Dad he was."

Caleb lifted his head and gave the boy a confused look. "Yeah. I guess. Why?" Everyone was always talking about how intelligent and articulate the youngest Winchester was showing signs of being. Caleb got really sick of hearing the adults talk about it.

Dean suddenly looked brittle. Like any moment he might crumble or break apart. "Is Sammy really special?"

"Really special?" Caleb asked. He had a very bad feeling he had just gotten thrown in to the deep end with no adult around to throw him a lifeline. One look at Dean and he knew he needed reinforcements. He looked up at the clock. Another hour until either John or Mac got home from the meeting with Dean's teachers.

Damn it.

Dean went from twirling his hair to yanking at it. "Is it my fault he's special?"

Caleb scooped the boy in to his arms, before Dean could do any serious damage to himself. He pulled both of them down to the carpet. "Deuce, stop it!" Caleb wrapped his arms around the little boy. Then he announced softly but firmly, "If you don't stop it. I'm going to put you in your special mittens so you can't hurt yourself."

Dean was finally talking after a long year of silence. He still had a bad habit of picking at himself until he bled or yanking at his hair whenever he got anxious or upset. Almost like the little boy was trying to peel his skin off. John had, out of desperation, made the six year old a pair of mittens to keep Dean from doing it.

"Sammy's special," Dean whimpered like his world just shattered.

What was this? Some sort of sibling jealously thing?

The six-year old swiftly started struggling in Caleb's arms with everything he had. "Stop it," Caleb ordered as he wrapped his arms tighter around the boy. He grunted as the kid got a few good shots in. "You're not going anywhere. At least, not until you explain to me what this is all about."

It seemed like forever before Dean stopped struggling. Caleb simply held on. Then the little boy turned and sobbed in to his shoulder, "Sammy's special and it's my fault."

"How is the doctor saying Sammy is special your fault, Deuce?"

"Because it is."

Caleb felt a dull ache build behind his eyes.

What was it about six year-old logic that made your head want to explode?

Caleb loosened his grip and prayed the worst of the storm had past. Then he offered a little reassurance, "Don't worry. You're special too, Deuce."

"I know that," Dean replied. "That's the reason I get so scared I can't breathe some times. And I have to go to special speech class."

Caleb stiffened.

If finally clicked what Dean meant by 'Special'.

Amazing how kids latched on to society's hypocrisy.

How special had so many different meanings.

A set of big, tear-filled, green eyes met his. "I don't want people to be mean to Sammy like they are to Alec. Tommy Henderson's older brother said that all the special kids should be locked away."

Alec was a fifteen year old boy with Down syndrome that attended speech class with Dean. The thing you tended to remember about Alec was his smile and the boundless enthusiasm he threw in to anything he tried. The friendly, outgoing teenager had taken a real shine to Dean. Alec had the body of fifteen, but mentally he had the development of a five year old child.

Weren't genetics a bitch?

A little dumb luck tweak there and you got a telepath. A twist somewhere else and you might end up with an extra chromosome.

"People aren't very nice to Alec are they", Caleb asked gently.

"No. Most times people pretend Alec's not there." Dean muttered in to his shoulder. "Except for Joe O'Neil, he called Alec a dummy. When I told Joe to stop it, he said words never hurt anybody but babies. He made me mad. So I hit him with the book Mac gave me for Christmas."

Caleb smirked. At least one of them had found a use for Mac's matching Christmas gifts. "So you proved to Joe that words could hurt."

Dean looked up at him. "Technically, it wasn't the words themselves, but the thesaurus they were contained in."

"Hey Linus, don't make me take your blanket away. Those are details."

Dean nodded and tugged at his ear. "That's what Dad said when he picked me up from the Time-Out-Corner in the principal's office again."

"So," Caleb began, as he loosened his grip on the six year-old again. He knew what it was like to be restrained and he hated doing it to anyone else. "So when the doctor told your dad that Sammy is special. You were afraid Sammy would get treated like Alec. Is that it?"

Dean nodded.

"Now explain to me how Sammy being special like Alec would be your fault?"

The six year-old suddenly looked like he might struggle or cry again. "The smoke." Dean swallowed thickly. "The firefighter that came to school said that smoke hurts baby's fast. I didn't do good enough at keeping Sammy safe from the smoke that night."

"Have you talked to your father or Mac about this?" Caleb grabbed Dean's hand. The little boy was reaching to yank at his hair again. "And what did I say about stopping it or I was going to get your mittens?"

Dean shook his head.

"So why didn't you talk to your Dad or Mac about this?"

"Because."

Caleb counted to ten and wondered how John did this. "Because why?"

"Because they'd try to protect me."

"Protect you from what, Deuce?"

"Telling me it was my fault," the six year-old sobbed. "I tried keeping Sammy safe when Dad gave him to me. But mommy and daddy were screaming and there was bad smoke everywhere."

Caleb blinked.

He tried to process that it was Dean and not John that carried Sammy out of the Winchester's burning house that night. That was a pretty remarkable accomplishment for a four year old child.

"Okay, Deuce," Caleb announced. "I'm only going to explain this once. Got it?"

The little boy nodded.

"Good." Caleb pulled Dean closer and secured the six year-old's hands. "I'm assuming that your teachers explained that Alec was born special right?"

"So were you." An intelligent, earnest, set of cat-like jade eyes met his. "That's why Tommy Henderson's older brother said you got locked up in the loony bin. I don't want you locked up. Even if you can be a nasty name only Daddy and Bobby can say."

So much for student record confidentiality.

Caleb squirmed. "Yeah, but they can't get me or Sammy. Mac, Jim, and the rest of the Brotherhood have our backs now."

That seemed to make sense to the boy in his arms. Dean nodded. "Shoulder to shoulder. Like the Greek phalanx battle formation."

"Yeah." He rolled his eyes. "Just like the Phalanx. I see someone is studying Sparta and Rome again."

"Dad said, '_My son, seek thee out a kingdom equal to thyself'._ It's not the Marine Corps, but Dad said it was acceptable."

"Whatever." Caleb muttered. "I am NOT rereading you the story of Orion the Hunter again."

Dean's eyes gleamed. "That's okay. Pastor Jim gave me a copy of the Iliad."

"I'm going to get very sick of reading about the 'destructive rage that sent countless pains on the Achaeans' aren't I?"

The little boy smiled at him sweetly. The light sprinkling of freckles on his nose danced with the motion. "Most likely."

Oh yes.

Dean was a very odd little kid.

"Just remember my reading time does NOT come cheap." Caleb groused as he slowly let Dean's hands go. He was not going to admit he actually liked reading to Dean. What had started out as a forced punishment had grown into something enjoyable. He had a reputation to protect.

"I have Girl Scout Cookies."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. Now, _this_ had potential. "Where did you score Girl Scout Cookies?"

"From Pastor Jim," the little boy informed him. "I bartered the cookies for chores. The Thin Mints are Sammy's, but I've got Tagalongs and Samoas. You rub my back and I'll rub yours."

"The phrase is: You scratch my back," Caleb corrected him, "And I'll scratch yours."

"I'm not scratching your back, Damien." Dean stuck his thumb in his mouth. "Rubbing is as far as I go. I don't do chick flick."

"Right. How could I forget?" Caleb chuckled. "You understand then? Alec was born a very different type of special from me and Sammy. But Sammy's special makes him way, way smart. That's what the doctor meant when he told your Dad that Sammy might be special. It had nothing to do with how well you protected Sammy from the smoke that night."

"I guess." Dean gave him a very serious look. "Does the Brotherhood protect special people like Alec too?"

"Especially people like Alec, Deuce."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Caleb answered softly. "That's why the Brotherhood was created. To protect special people just like him."

Dean nodded solemnly and replied, "Good."

Then Deuce got _that_ gleam in his eye.

Caleb narrowed his eyes. He knew that look. "Alright, what are you plotting? And against whom?"

Dean pulled his thumb out of his mouth and blinked. "Plotting?"

"Yes, plotting," Caleb growled. "The last time you had that look in your eye, I ended up scrubbing two liters of soda off my bedroom ceiling."

"Diet coke and Mentos candies, who knew they could make such mess?" Dean replied sweetly. "Besides, that's what you get for being mean to me, and telling me there were Grizzly Bears in Central Park."

Caleb suddenly got the mental image of Tommy Henderson's older brother pushing Dean down when Dean got between the older bully and Alec. He smiled down at Dean. It wasn't a nice one. "Don't worry Deuce, I'll take care Dev Henderson for you."

"No need," Dean replied. Then he stuck his thumb back in his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Caleb asked lifting an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Dean Matthew Winchester!" John Winchester's voice abruptly roared from down stairs. "Get your ass down here right now! We need to discuss some dead fish and a catapult."

Dean looked up at Caleb and shrugged, "I took care of it."

Yeah, wasn't it amazing how the word _Special_ had so many different meanings?

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**Author's Notes: **

The quote: "_My son, seek thee out a kingdom equal to thyself, Macedon has not room for thee" _

Was originally credited to Philip II of Macedon, father of Alexander the Great. It was one of the few recorded instances the no-nonsense Philip, ever praised Alexander openly and publicly. I thought it was a fitting quote a military man like John might throw out.

It is also recorded that Alexander's two prized possessions he carried with him everywhere were the hunting knife he kept under his pillow and a copy of the Iliad his mentor Aristotle gave him. Having Jim give Dean a copy of the Iliad was something I could not pass up.


End file.
